


Time For Coffee

by huntressofdreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Teen!Cas, Teen!Dean, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:58:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntressofdreams/pseuds/huntressofdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean comes in and buys coffee from Castiel every day. When Castiel, decides to write his number on the cup, he starts something new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time For Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by Tumblr user error-pleasetryagainlater

Castiel checked the clock. 7:43. He’d be here soon. He handed a mocha latte to the lady in front of him and watched the door.  
  
The seconds ticked by, with Cas alternating his eyes between the clock and door. Time seemed to slow down. Everything started moving way too slow for him. Then the door opened.  
Suddenly everything was moving so fast Cas could hardly keep up.  
  
"Hey, Cas," someone said, bringing the present back to him.  
  
Castiel blinked at him. When his face registered, Cas smiled. “Hello, Dean.” He paused, then grabbed for a cup. “The usual, I presume?”  
  
"Yeah," Dean replied, and pointed beside him. "And one o’ those cookies, too."  
  
Cas nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting; a ghost of a smile. “Of course,” he said, punching it into the cash register. “One moment.” He walked over to the coffee pumps. Sitting beside it was a Sharpie. Sighing and muttering about people not being able to put things away, he picked it up. He turned, but paused. Glancing back at the cup, he got an idea.  
  
"Here you are," he told Dean, slipping a coffee holder over the now-full cup.  
  
"Thanks, Cas." Dean put a few bills on the counter and took a bit out of his cookie. "Keep the change."

* * *

  
Passing a trashcan, Dean slipped the cover off of the cup and tossed it in. He pressed his hands against the heat coming off the coffee. The harsh winter air whipped through his hair and he held the cup closer. He hurried down the road.  
  
He slipped into the lecture hall with barely a minute to spare. Sitting down, he took another sip of coffee before pulling out his books. As he waited for the professor to start, he stared down, studying his desk. He had done so many times before, and could probably trace the lines from memory, had he any artistic ability.  
  
The professor began talking. Dean reached for a pen. As he did so, he noticed a black smudge on his hands. He glanced at his cup, where a number was written, along with “Call me? -Cas”. Dean smiled.  
  


* * *

  
  
"Hey, Castiel," a woman said. "Can you close up? I need to pick my son up from school soon."  
  
"Of course," Cas said. She smiled gratefully before leaving.  
  
After the last customers left, Cas started wiping up the tables and counters. Three people had spilled their coffee, he noted. He began turning off the coffee pots.  
  
“ _I see the bad moon arising. I see trouble on the way.I see earthquakes and lightnin’.”_  
  
Cas paused from his steady rhythm of unplug, wipe, repeat. He pulled out his phone. The caller ID didn’t recognize the number from his contacts, and instead listed ten numbers across the screen.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
There was a pause from the other end, with just the sound of someone breathing. “Hey, Cas,” someone said eventually. “You wanted me to call you?”  
  
Cas’s throat dried up. He lost focus of what he was doing and dropped the wet rag. He leaned back against the counter and spoke.  
  
Barely any sound left his mouth, and what did came out in a croak. He grabbed some water and tried again.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
"Yeah." A breath of laughter formed on the other line. "So, you wanna … I don’t know, hang out?"  
  
Castiel paused. “Um … Dean,” he started. “Are you asking me out?”  
  
"Yeah, I guess I am. So, where should I pick you up?"  
  
"Right now?" he exclaimed.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Cas picked himself up off the counter and breathed. He picked up the rag and began cleaning again, trying to busy himself, as well as his thoughts. “What makes you think I want to go out with you?”  
  
The long pause on the other end made Cas immediately regret those words. But he didn’t try to take it back. He waited for Dean’s reaction.  
  
"You’re the one who gave me your freakin’ number!" Dean said excitedly, his voice suddenly filling with anger.  
  
"Well, maybe you shouldn’t jump to conclusions!" What was he saying? Why had he said that?  
  
Dean paused, his breathing heavy. All he did was breathe, in, out, in, out.  
  
"Fine," he said eventually. He sounded deflated, as if all the emotion had gone out of him. The line clicked.  
  


* * *

  
  
7:42.  
  
He handed back her change.  
  
7:43.  
  
He took an order.  
  
7:44.  
  
He poured some coffee.  
  
7:45.  
  
He watched the door, hoping against hope.  
  
7:46.  
  
He looked away, all his hope defeated.  
  
"Hey, Cas."  
  
He look up. 7:48.  
  
"You’re late."  
  
"Am I?" Dean checked his watch and tapped it. "Must be slow. So," he said, looking back up.  
  
"When does your shift end?"  
  
"I - what?"  
  
"When do you get off work?"  
  
"I thought …"  
  
Dean reached across the counter and grabbed Cas’s hand. “Cas. Will you go out with me?”


End file.
